Echo of Your Angel
by Trunks1
Summary: Late night finds Draco up in the Astronomy tower, contemplating the many reasons he has to take that small step of the ledge. But, Harry finds fault with his reasoning.


Title: Echo of Your Angel   
  
Written by: Trunks  
  
Rating: PG   
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, we are not worthy, we must bow down to  
her. Me? I'm just a fan who enjoys writing about them :)   
  
Notes: Take place a little ways after GoF, although it doesn't really matter.   
  
  
  
  
I could have blamed it all on a variety of things, but I really didn't feel like making up   
excuses at this point. No, I had grown tired of the trivial efforts I put into surviving   
each day. This was just a slightly less than beautiful way to make sure those efforts ended   
forever.   
  
A coward, that is what my father would call me, had he the brains to realize the changes in  
his   
son over the past year. Yes, I suppose you could call me a coward, but I don't care what  
you   
call me. I gave up caring a long time ago.  
  
No, now I'm just content to sit here and gaze out the astronomy tower window, admiring  
the   
beautiful scenery. Such a surreal scene this is, if not a bit ironic. Oh, how many people   
would love to be witnessing my breakdown tonight?   
  
Weasley would probably urge me on, making a long list of reasons why the world doesn't  
need me. Mudblood Granger would probably scold me for being out in the middle of the  
night, before fully   
agreeing with her boyfriend.   
  
And Potter. Loved little Potter. Terribly perfect little Potter.   
  
What would you say, Potter? Do you have it inside you to encourage someone to kill  
themselves,   
Potter, even if you hate them? Oh, Potter, I would love to see the look upon your face.   
  
Such a beautiful, unforgettable night tonight is. A clear sky, not a single trace of a cloud,   
plenty of stars.. Yes, isn't it ironic.   
  
Of course, this will not all be in a waste. I'm sure it will brighten the day of that Skeeter   
woman over at the Daily Prophet. Yes, I can see it all now.   
  
Malfoy does nose-dive out of school tower. Assumed dead upon impact.  
  
What a charming issue. Weasley will probably send Skeeter praise for her article.   
  
Oh and what will you say Father? Decline you ever had such a disgraceful son? Deny that  
you   
ever beat him to a bloody pulp? Deny that your happy about his death?   
  
Don't worry, father, my death won't be a waste. I'll come back and haunt you, until you  
die.  
How do you feel about that, father? Your son's death is, essentially, your fault, isn't it   
ironic that he would haunt you forever?   
  
This is my birthday present to myself. You gave me this wretched mark, father, that will  
forever   
burn into my skin. And this is my 'thank you' for you, father. I'm doing this to show my   
gratitude towards you, for what you've done.   
  
You've permanently scarred me, father, but I found a way to erase it from my life. There  
is no   
reason for me to be here, there never was. Nothing in this life has ever been my choice.   
This isn't my life, father, it's yours.   
  
You want me to be what you are, don't you? I'm sorry to disappoint you, father, but I am  
no   
longer your son.   
  
Yes, this is just a splendid night. I couldn't have picked a better one if I had tried.   
  
I almost feel sorry for Filch, who'll probably have to clean up my body. But, there really is   
no other way to end this. Maybe I could get Potter to kill me, would that be pure irony?   
  
Not that I don't think he wouldn't want to, but he probably wouldn't. Potter's too much of  
a   
coward to kill anyone.   
  
I suppose this is my final good-bye to the world. Good-bye to my mother, who never  
bothered to   
stop my father from beating me.   
Good-bye to my father, who I hope dies a cruel death by Voldemort. Good-bye to you,  
Potter, for   
being the reason I stayed alive for so long.   
  
Every day, Potter, lived to be better than you. Never did succeed, did I? Just a wasted  
life.   
  
"Malfoy?!"  
  
Oh, for crying out loud. You just have to ruin everything, don't you?   
  
"Sod off, Potter, I'm busy," I spat, my eyes never leaving the edge of the tower. A  
beautiful   
night ruined because Potter can't sleep. Lovely.   
  
I do hope he isn't here to fight, I'm just no in the mood.   
  
"Yes, I can see that," he retorts, and I can feel him glaring at the back of my head. "Need  
I   
remind you that you can't fly without a broomstick?"   
  
Just LEAVE, Potter. I didn't invite you up here for idle chit-chat.   
  
"That's the point, Potter," I seethe, my grip on the edge of the window tightening in  
frustration. I'll give him two seconds to leave before I blast him. Yes, that seems awfully   
fair.   
  
"You can't be serious, Malfoy."  
  
"I'm QUITE serious, Potter. Now get lost, I don't need an audience for this."   
  
"Stupid git, you can't just jump out of a castle window!"   
  
I feel myself smirking, although it's bitterly. "Of course I can, Potter, that's the reason I'm   
up here. Now, run off back to bed, won't you?"  
  
He snorts, "Yeah, Malfoy, I'll just go to sleep with a clear conscious, knowing you've just  
done   
a flying leap from the Astronomy tower."  
  
It's about time he understood. Stupid git..   
  
"Now your getting the idea, Potter," I say, forcing my voice to stay calm. "Ten points to   
Griffindor for your outstanding show in intelligence."  
  
He sighs, "Quit with the sarcasm, Malfoy."   
  
I chuckle, "What are you doing up here anyway, Potter? Plan to have a midnight  
make-out session   
with one of your fans tonight?"   
  
Scowling, he continues to glare at the back of my head, "I just wanted to come up and get  
some   
fresh air. I thought no one else would be up here. Imagine my surprise to see you about  
to   
leap off the tower."  
  
"You should let me, Potter, then you'll have the tower all to yourself," I recommend, half   
wondering if he's just standing there to annoy me. If he is, it's working.   
  
Either Potter is too dumb to take a hint or is merely enjoying seeing his enemy in such a   
state. Knowing Potter, it's probably both of them.   
  
"What are you doing up here, Malfoy? Besides trying to become a pancake, that is," he  
asked,   
and I could hear him start to pace around the small room.   
  
The night had started out so well.   
  
"Simply putting an end to all sorts of misery, Potter," I answer, simply, "You should be  
quite   
happy, isn't this what you've always wanted?"   
  
He sighs, again, "I don't sit around plotting your death, Malfoy. Your a pain in the ass,  
but   
I suppose that can't be helped."  
  
"Oh, your speech has truly moved me, Potter."   
  
"Do you really think you need to kill yourself, Malfoy?" he asks.   
  
I shrug, "You wouldn't understand, Potter."  
  
"What wouldn't I understand, Malfoy? Why is it you suddenly decide to kill yourself  
without a   
moment's notice?" he was fuming now, trying not to yell. "Tell me!"   
  
Spinning around, I glare at him. "You wouldn't understand what it's like to have parents  
that   
hate you, Potter. Your parents DIED for you, they loved you! How can you possibly  
understand?"   
  
I shake my head, turning back around towards the window. "Nevermind, Potter, I'm not  
discussing   
my private matters with you, of all people."   
  
"You have to talk to someone, Malfoy, I just happen to be here," Potter remarks, almost  
carelessly.   
  
"I'm not talking with you about this, Potter," I state, sitting down in the window.   
  
"Then forget who I am, Malfoy!" He yells, surprising him and myself. "Forget that I'm  
Harry Potter. Forget that we are supposed to hate each other. I just happened to be the  
one that found you tonight, even if it was accidental."  
  
If only I could, Potter. You don't realize how much I want to do that very thing every  
day. Forget that your the one I'm supposed to be better than, supposed to hate, supposed  
to kill. But, Potter, I can't do that.   
  
I wouldn't want to have anything to do with you if you weren't who you were. Not the  
Boy-Who-Lived, not the person who is to defeat Voldemort, not my mortal enemy, but  
just Harry Potter.   
  
The same Harry Potter I met on our first day in the robe shop. The same Harry Potter  
who was sorted into Griffindor instead of Slytherin. The very same Harry Potter that  
manages to get   
under my skin like no one else.   
  
"Malfoy, you might as well tell me, because," here he crossed the room and sat down   
beside me, "I'm not going anywhere."   
  
Stubborn git.   
  
"All right, you stay here," I scowl, "I'll just be at the bottom of the tower."  
  
"By 'I'm not going anywhere', I mean 'I'm not letting you take a flying leap of the   
Astronomy tower."   
  
Figures. Potter never can seem to keep his nose in his own business.   
  
A grin spreads itself across my face, "And what, exactly, are you going to do, Potter?   
Hex me?"   
  
"Don't tempt me, Malfoy," He chuckles, before he goes serious again. "Talk. What's  
wrong with you?"   
  
"Wrong with me? I don't know what you mean, Potter. You mean to say if I don't prance  
around, laughing at every idiotic thing, like you and your friends, that there must be  
something wrong with me?" I asked, scowling again.   
  
"Malfoy.."  
  
"Just making an observation, Potter, don't get so upset," I chuckled, "Now, what is it  
about my suicide that fascinates you so much?"  
  
"It doesn't 'fascinate' me, I just don't go around letting people toss themselves out of tower  
windows," he answered. "Maybe I'm just worried about your well-being, ever think about  
that?"   
  
"Don't mock me, Potter, I don't want to hear it."   
  
"I'm not mocking you. You don't just go find someone you know jumping off a building  
and then just let it slip your mind."  
  
"Aw, Potter, and all this time I thought you hated me."  
  
"I'm serious, Malfoy! Haven't you ever worried about anyone?"  
  
Now that's an awfully interesting question. Ten more points to Griffindor for Potter  
asking such a deep and thoughtful question. Worry about someone else? Who is  
important enough to me for me to worry about them?   
  
Certainly not my parents, I've only been proclaiming my hatred for them all night.   
Definitely not any of the Slytherins I know.. I would rather see them up here jumping off  
than worry about them.   
There just ISN'T anyone I worry about, there isn't any reason to. I don't even worry about  
myself.   
  
"Malfoy?" He asks, waving a hand in front of my face, "Did you hear me?"   
  
"Yes, I heard you, Potter!" I snap. "No, I don't worry about anyone."  
  
He spares me a short glance, before looking out over the scenery of Hogwarts. "Your not  
as terrible a person as you make yourself out to be, Draco."   
  
How strange...  
  
When I woke up tonight, the first thought in my head was that now would be the perfect  
time to end everything. No one would be awake at this forsaken time of the night and no  
one would ever bother stopping me.   
  
Even when Potter showed up, it still seemed like I would be able to go through with it.   
Sure, I didn't want him watching me kill myself, but.. still..   
  
We've hardly fought at all since he arrived up here, something that, in itself, worries me. I  
cannot handle being civil towards him, it's just not how things are supposed to be.   
  
And now, he's telling me that I'm not that bad of a guy? I just want to kill myself, why  
can't he see that and leave?  
  
"Not terrible, eh, Potter? I believe that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," I  
chuckle, watching as he blinks for a moment and slowly shakes his head.   
  
"Can't you be serious for one moment, Malfoy?"  
  
"I am serious," I respond.   
  
Although I realize why that's hard to imagine. After all, this is the first time we've spoken  
to each other without bringing out our wands. And, though I'm certainly not going to  
jump and tell him, it's nice.   
  
I rather like acting as if we're friends. It's a strange feeling.   
  
He looks over at me from the corner of his eye, "So, you never told me. What exactly is  
the   
reason Draco Malfoy decided on to kill himself?"  
  
I chuckle again, shifting a bit. "Just life, Potter, just life."  
  
He nods, but doesn't respond.   
  
"So, do you plan on leaving anytime soon?" I question.   
  
Turning his head towards me, he gives a look, "Yes, Malfoy, I'll just turn right around and  
go   
back to sleep, ignoring the visions of you splattering yourself onto the ground."  
  
"Oh, so your staying out here for your own benefit," I translate, giving a short nod,  
"Gotcha. Wouldn't want poor Potter to have a guilty conscious, would we?"  
  
He shakes his head again, frowning, "I thought I already told you. I'm out here because  
I'm worried about your well-being."  
  
Sure, Potter, why didn't I think of that? When my own parents and fellow Slytherins  
could care less about me, you, my mortal enemy, suddenly decide to give me a bit of  
compassion?   
  
Your just like them, Potter. Just pretending.   
  
"Thanks, Potter, but I don't want your pity," I spat angrily.   
  
"That's good, Malfoy, because I'm not giving you pity," he answers calmly.   
  
I shrug, "It certainly seems that way."   
  
His calm expression fades and he glares at me. "What part of 'I'm concerned' do you not  
get, Malfoy? I don't want you to do a nose-dive off the Astronomy tower, is that clear  
enough for you?"  
  
"What part of 'leave, I want to die' do you not understand?" I retort.   
  
"That's just it, Malfoy, why do you want to die?" He asks, turning around to face me.   
"Give me a good reason and I'll leave, how is that?"  
  
A good reason, Potter? That's what I have to give to get rid of you?   
  
I sigh, leaning against the side of the window. I don't really have anything to lose by  
showing him, do I? Besides him that is..   
  
Lose him in more ways than one.   
  
I shake my head and he sighs.   
  
"Anytime, Malfoy."   
  
Smiling slightly, I turn towards him and pull up the right sleeve of my robe, nodding my  
head towards the lovely little picture that has been burned into my skin. His eyes widen  
slightly and I wouldn't be surprised if he was in shock.   
  
"Nice little birthday present, don't you think, Potter?" I ask, my voice low.   
  
"W-When did you.. get that?" He asks, his eyes never leaving the mark.   
  
I let the sleeve of my robe fall back over my arm, "My father decided to give me a really  
nice present for my sixteenth birthday. Isn't it lovely?"  
  
"Draco.."  
  
"Now, Potter," I turn away from him, my feet continuing to dangle off the side of the  
window, "If you'll excuse me, I believe we had a deal."   
  
I hope he's happy. I really do.   
  
But, I notice miserably, he hasn't even made a move to leave yet. What does he want?   
  
"Potter-"   
  
"I'm still waiting, Malfoy."   
  
I blink, surprised, "For what?"  
  
"Your good reason, Malfoy, I'm waiting for it."   
  
If I had been any more surprised, my eyes would have fallen out of my head. That's a nice  
mental image..   
  
Slowly, he stands up and wipes his hands on his robes.   
  
"That was my reason, Potter," I say angrily, standing up.   
  
"Well, Malfoy," he begins, standing face-to-face with me, "I'm not saying it's not a terrible  
thing to happen, even to you, but it's not a good enough reason to end your life."   
  
I can't believe him.. He can't be serious.. If only he knew what I had to live through.   
  
As if noticing the look on my face, he sighs, "Look, Draco, just because your father gave  
you the Dark Mark, it doesn't mean it's the end of the world. It may come of a surprise to  
you, but you don't have to follow in your father's footsteps."   
  
What is he saying? ....   
  
"Potter, you can't be serious."   
  
"I am quite serious, Draco," he insists, frowning, "Snape has the Dark Mark and you don't  
see him flinging himself out of castle towers, do you?"   
  
"Snape was a deatheater," I point out.   
  
"'Was', Draco, not 'is'. Look, if your worried about it, talk to Dumbledore. Don't give me  
that look, I know you don't like him, but it's your best option," he stops, sighing and  
looking me over for a moment. "Lucius Malfoy is your father, but that's it. You may have  
it in your mind that he commands your life or something, but, you must realize, Draco, he  
doesn't even control his own life. Voldemort does."  
  
Maybe he doesn't really control my life, but it has always felt that way.. Perhaps I've just  
never noticed?   
  
He gestured towards the door and I sighed, defeated, and made my way after him.  
  
"So, your not going to go jump off during the middle of the night when I'm actually  
asleep, are you?" He asks, jokingly.  
  
I snicker, giving him a small glance. No, I probably won't try that again. I don't know if  
it's just because of Potter's speech or something else, but I seem to have lost my passion  
for dying.   
  
"Potter, I'm going to ask you not to repeat tonight's events to your little gang."   
  
He chuckles, but nods anyway. "Of course."   
  
"Oh and, uh, Harry?"   
  
Glancing at me over his shoulder, he raises an eyebrow. "Yeah?"   
  
"Thanks."  
  
He smiles.   
  
"Your welcome, Draco."   
  
  
-----------------------------  
  
Author's Notes: Okay, this was going to be slash, I'll say that right now. But, by the time  
I had gotten to Draco not diving off the tower, it seemed kinda corny to just stick it in at  
the end. I'm not sure I like how this turned out, but oh well.   
  
I, originally, was going to have Draco jump ^_^ But, Harry just insisted that I not kill him,  
so this happened. Thanks for reading! *waves* 


End file.
